


false awakenings

by saturnsringpops



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, I just like torturing him, Infinity War references, M/M, Nightmares, Peter Parker-centric, Sad Peter, The Spideypool is kinda background, this is trash but that's fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 10:31:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16574738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnsringpops/pseuds/saturnsringpops
Summary: false awakening: in which one dreams that they have awoken from a sleep that featured dreams, take on aspects of a double dream or a dream within a dream.





	false awakenings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_static_world](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_static_world/gifts).



The air is thick and bitter with the remnants of fire. Ash billows around him, a curtain of weathered chaos that only seems to cloud his senses further. The tears springing to his eyes do nothing to protect them from the burning clouds of smoke, but he presses on, gaze flickering across the area in hopes of finding someone.

_Save them, save them, save them you have to **save them.**_

He can't think through the dread and panic swirling around in his mind. Where is everyone? Wade had been by his side only seconds ago, he could have swore. But the space around him is empty -- the only form of warmth being the oven-like heat from the fire.

Screams echo faintly. They don't sound quite real or anywhere nearby. But as they ring again, it feels as if they're right next to him. He whirls around, breath catching in his throat.

No one is there.

Confusion spikes, disorienting him further. Why does it feel like his emotions have increased tenfold? He's  _used_  to feeling scared or worried during fights. But what he's feeling right now seems like it's drowning him, clogging his lungs and blurring his vision and causing his head to spin.

He's digging fingertips into his temples, willing his thoughts to just  _be quiet_  for a minute, when he hears it. A cry of his name, clear and loud against the whirring of everything else.

"Peter!" A voice yells, carrying over the clouds of smoke. "Peter, hurry!"

It's May's voice. He could recognize it from from miles away, in a busy crowd. His feet immediately move on autopilot towards where her yells are coming from. He can save her. He can save someone tonight, and he's just lucky enough that it's the person he cares about the most.

He sprints, and it feels like he's wading through water, but he doesn't slow down. The ash and heat burn his skin through the suit.

"May?" He calls, the word tearing from his throat in a gasp. His head whips frantically back and forth, searching for his aunt.

"Peter! Peter, hurry!" She calls again. She's close. Peter pushes through the smoke and bursts into a small area that's seemingly untouched by the burning chaos around it. It is only sand, and the smoke creates something of a dome around it, not pushing in.

In his muddled brain, Peter doesn't question it. He has to save May.

His eyes land on her almost immediately. She's sitting, knees folded under her, in the middle of the area. Her hands are clasped neatly in her lap. She doesn't look distressed in the slightest, despite her surroundings.

Peter tries to move to her, but his feet have become buried in the sand. A frustrated growl escapes his lips as he attempts to wrench them out. The sand somehow holds like dried cement.

"May?" He cries desperately, eyes flicking up to her as if she can help. He flinches a little in surprise when she's suddenly standing only a foot in front of him. How had she moved so fast? Her eyes bore right into his unblinkingly. A serene smile sits frozen on her face.

"May...?" It's softer this time, hesitant.

"Hurry, Peter!"

Peter frowns. "May, I'm right here."

She doesn't move in the slightest. "Hurry, Peter! You'll miss the ball dropping!"

He blinks in surprise. The confusion strengthens, but his head has become clearer than it had been moments ago.

"I-- what?"

"Ben loved watching the ball drop."

He stands still for a moment, completely lost. Then suddenly, it hits him. These were her exact words on New Year's Eve last year. 

She'd been curled up on the couch, TV illuminating her features in the dark room. Her hands had clutched two fresh hot chocolates as she'd waited for him to grab their favourite Christmas cookies.

He remembers hurriedly sliding in next to her, one hand reaching for a mug, the other placing the plate of cookies between them. She'd wrapped an arm around him and tugged him into her side.

"Ben loved watching the ball drop." May had whispered, giving him a sad but genuine smile. The same smile she's looking at him with now.

He remembers the countdown echoing in the quiet apartment as he smiled back at her.

In the present, he doesn't smile. He stares at her with growing concern, eyebrows furrowing. As he opens his mouth to ask her if she's okay, she begins to flicker. Like an old tape that had been put into the player one too many times.

"You couldn't save him, could you?" She whispers, the smile still firmly planted on her face. His stomach twists. "You couldn't, could you, Peter?"

"May?" He repeats for the third time that night. This time, his voice cracks over the word. She reaches up and cups his cheek. She doesn't seem fazed by the fact that it's damp with tears.

"You couldn't save him, Peter. And now, you can't save me."

In front of his eyes, she vanishes to ashes. Bitter, horrible memories of Titan arise in his head, but he isn't paying attention to them. His feet are finally released, and he falls to his knees on the ground. Her ashes swirl amidst a wind he hadn't noticed.

His breath catches in his throat, and he screams.

————————————

Peter lurches upward in his bed, chest heaving.

The room around him is silent. His t-shirt is damp with sweat. He jerks his head to look over at Wade, who's sleeping soundly beside him.

A breath of relief escapes his fear-tight throat.  _Just a dream._

As if feeling Peter's gaze on him, Wade's eyes drowsily blink open to meet his. It must be obvious what had just happened, because the older man softly hums and tugs Peter to him, wrapping his big arms around the hero's waist.

"You okay?" He asks softly. Peter shakily nods.

"Yeah, I..." He takes a breath, closing his eyes to calm himself down. "Just a nightmare. I'm fine."

"Wanna talk about it?" Wade offers. He sits up slightly as if to prove Peter that he's awake enough to listen. Peter gives him a small smile and leans into him.

"It was like," The vividness of the dream inside his head is startling. "It was like the time I fought the Vulture, on the beach. There was fire. I couldn't breathe."

He retells the events of the nightmare to Wade in a small, quiet voice, as if speaking any louder will bring them to life. They felt so  _real._ His heart is still thumping almost painfully in his chest. His boyfriend stays silent the entire time other than the occasional soothing hum.

When he finishes, he goes quiet and waits for Wade to say something. Maybe reassure him that everything is okay, that May is fine. But the ex-mercenary is dead silent. It's unnerving to Peter's harried state. He can't see Wade's expression from where it's pressed into his neck.

"Wade?" He asks softly.

For a moment, he wonders if Wade fell asleep. It is pretty late, and Wade strongly values his sleep. But then the man moves away from him to sit up straight, shifting to fully face Peter.

Hands reach up to cup his cheeks. Small flashes of dream-May's hand in the same place light up his mind like wildfire.

Peter watches Wade's expression, his own smaller hands lifting to cover Wade's.

"Oh, Peter..." Wade murmurs. A sympathetic smile curves his scarred lips. There's an almost unnoticeable, mocking tinge to it that has Peter's spine straightening.

He cocks an eyebrow at Wade; sass was always his second-nature defense mechanism. "What?" His voice is loud in the oddly quiet room. Normally, he could still hear faint sounds of the city even at this time of night.

Wade's hands abruptly slide down to his shoulders. Their grip tightens, and Peter winces in pain at the use of Wade's super-strength. He clutches the older man's wrists and attempts to pull them away. "Wade, what the  _he_ \--?"

"She was right, you know."

Peter becomes inhumanly still. His breath stops in his throat; he doesn't even dare to breathe. The pressure of Wade's hands against his shoulders and collarbone becomes impossible to ignore. Wade continues, as if Peter's chest didn't feel like it was caving in with a sudden rush of terror ( _not again not again please not again please no not again_ ).

"You can't save anyone." Wade's tone is somehow still kind, despite the crushing cruelty of his words. Peter's afraid to look up at him. He doesn't want to see the same frozen, hollow look he'd seen in dream-May's eyes. His eyes stay resolutely on the space behind Wade's left ear.

"You never do."

The smile slowly slips into a malicious smirk. A single tear rolls down Peter's cheek as Wade tilts his head.

"You just never learn."

Peter forces his eyes shut, mouth twisting to ward back sobs as he feels solid warmth turns to ash within his fingertips.

_You **never**  do._

He doesn't dare open his eyes.

— — — — — — — — — — — — 

For the second time, Peter awakens with a gasp.

( false awakening: in which one dreams that they have awoken from a sleep that featured dreams, take on aspects of a double dream or a dream within a dream. )  
 

**Author's Note:**

> hi my name is ruby and i like making peter parker sad :))
> 
> hope y'all enjoyed! i'm rusty with fanfic.  
> i'm on tumblr as angel-webs! come yell at me


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